


Being More Like Virgil

by thunderbird_dragon



Series: Being more like Virgil [2]
Category: Thunderbirds, thunderbirds are go
Genre: Brotherly Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderbird_dragon/pseuds/thunderbird_dragon
Summary: The stress of keeping International Rescue in his father's absence his causing stress to Scott.  Having got Gordon back to TB2 Virgil can't even bring himself to talk to Scott.





	Being More Like Virgil

It had taken over 12 hours for TB2’s searchlight to finally find them. By then Gordon had lost all consciousness and more worryingly had lost some body heat too, Scott had resorted to holding him close in to share his warmth, hoping and praying that he wasn’t doing more damage.  
Virgil didn’t speak.  
Not one single word as he knelt beside Gordon, as he shared carrying him to TB2 with Scott, as he worked on getting the IV lines in and replacing lost blood. Not one word.  
Scott’s guilt had overtaken him totally, so he didn’t expect Virgil to speak, but the silence was deafening.  
Alan stood close into Virgil, reaching for whatever medical equipment his older brother needed, his face frozen in anxiety for Gordon and in pain from the silence between Virgil and Scott. He couldn’t look up, he kept his focus entirely on Gordon, willing him to be okay. Alan had seen each of them hurt in one way or another since he’d been working the rescues too, but somehow, this seemed worse. It wasn’t so much Gordon’s injuries but the tension between them all in the tiny sick bay of TB2.   
He had sat up beside Virgil in TB2 during the long search, almost in silence too, watching the little muscle in Virgil’s jaw jerking in anger and anxiety. He’d listened quietly to the tense calls between John and Virgil, curt conversations on search patterns, desperate efforts to regain communications and current locations. At no point did John or Virgil apportion blame for their missing brothers and at that point no one knew what had happened, but each of them had heard Virgil council caution before Scott set out. They had all heard him say it wasn’t the safest option and that it would be better to wait whilst they looked at the situation from all angles. No one said it but they were all thinking it.  
This was Scott’s fault.  
It was more than Alan could stand, his stomach was twisted until he was sick, his eyebrows were so knotted that his head ached and ached but worst of all, he just couldn’t look at Scott. His great hero! He loved all his brothers equally, tried to emulate each of their best qualities, but it was Scott who he most wanted to be like, level-headed, fast thinking, always correct Scott.   
How could it be that Scott had made such a mistake?  
He felt sick again and went to dash away when Virgil grabbed his wrist, “Not now Alan, I need your arm.” Alan offered it up willingly, as Gordon would always have done for him. Virgil slipped in the blood transfusion needle and linked it directly into Gordon.   
Virgil then nudged Scott with his boot. Their first contact of any kind, still no words, but Scott had been sat almost under the ledge that Gordon lay on, head down, not expecting any communication and still clutching at the younger ones left hand.   
Looking up, he only saw Virgil’s hand extended out expectantly.  
“He’s going to double up the transfusion, Scott.” Alan broke the silence.  
Grateful for anything, if only a civil use of his name, Scott stood and allowed the line to be put in his arm. Virgil wasn’t gentle.  
Curtly over the comms, they could hear John, “Will someone give me an update!”  
“Sorry John!” It was Alan again, intently aware that no-one else was going to speak. “Virg has kinda stabilised Gordon,” he looked up at Virgil, who scowled back, not at all sure that he would call Gordon stabilised yet. Alan gulped but carried on, “he’s lost a lot of blood, he’s not conscious and…” He looked to Virgil again for a bit of help.  
“Three broken bones that I can feel, jaw, collarbone and skull, cuts, deep ones, and bruising. Nothing that will stop him talking I’m sure or keep him out of the pool for too long with any luck!” Snapped Virgil as he finished up and pushed past Scott. “Alan, you know how to take those out?” He indicated the transfusion lines and the boy nodded his head positively – at least someone had been taking notes on the paramedic training sessions! “Then take them out when this reads 24 – no later, I don’t want any heroics, that’s all you’re giving to Gordon now, he might need more from you later.” And he left to fly TB2 to the closest hospital.  
Left on their own, joined by blood flow through Gordon, Alan finally lifted his eyes to look at his oldest brother.   
Scott was stood, leaning exhausted back on the stainless lockers of the sickbay, pale and drawn, his eyes tightly closed and Alan suddenly wondered just how much pain Scott must be feeling.  
“Scott?”  
His head shot up at being spoken to, his eyes startlingly very blue, and now Alan could see that pain clearly.  
“Scott? You okay?”  
All at once Scott had trouble hanging in there, his eyes stung sharply, tears rose and filled them so quickly that he slammed them shut again in an instant. Even now, even after all of this, he just couldn’t show vulnerability. A legacy of being Jeff Tracy’s eldest son.  
Too late though – Alan had seen – seen that vulnerability and his own tears, so close to the surface for half a day now, started to flow, uncontrollably and unchecked.   
“Scott, will everything ever be okay again?” And they both knew that he didn’t just mean Gordon.  
It took a moment for Scott to answer, “Yes, Alan, I promise it will get better than it is at the moment. I’ll apologise for being a total idiot… and I’ll try Alan, I’ll really try.” It was all he could manage before his throat closed in on him.  
No matter how much he may blame Scott for poor Gordon laying there so still, Alan’s heart lurched at Scott’s pain and he moved closer to Scott placing his spare arm up around Scott’s tall shoulders. It was a mildly ridiculous gesture, but Scott responded by folding down to rest his chin on the top of the boy’s head where he stayed for a long moment until…  
“Where is Scott right now? I want to talk to him.” John’s voice cut through the only relief Scott had felt in hours.   
Scott straightened up. “Are we at 24 yet, Alan?” and the boy nodded, releasing him from the transfusion.  
Scott took himself down to the pod bay, out of hearing, he knew roughly what John would want to say.  
And he was right.  
“Just what did you think you were doing?”  
A straightforward question said in John’s usual monotone but with the venom that was pure ‘Angry John’, the John who was cool, calm and calculating about most things except his family’s safety. It hit Scott with the strength he had expected. A punch in the nose with no blood. He didn’t reply, waiting for the next volley.  
“I just don’t understand how you could have done anything so… so… dumb!” John always lost the power of vocabulary when he shouted but then he rarely shouted. Scott’s eyebrow raised at the use of the word ‘dumb’, John must have been near nuclear!   
“John?” Scott tested the water and despite everything, John listened. He was always fair and accepted it was time to let Scott talk. “Nothing you or Virgil can say will make me feel worse than I do already. Nothing.” He took a breath, “I know I’ve been tough to live with lately…”  
“I’ve not been living with you, but I’ve had reports!”  
“Look John,” Scott felt numb beyond anything more hurting him, “I’ve just been trying to be successful in what we do, carrying on so that Dad would be proud of us… “  
There was a long silence. John couldn’t reply, something jerked inside him and he understood it totally, he was doing the same himself. If truth were known, they all were. If truth were known, that is why Gordon had jumped at the chance of going with Scott in the first place. If truth were known, that was why Virgil couldn’t speak to Scott.  
“Keep me posted on Gordon’s progress, if I need to be there, let me know,” was all John said before the comms went dark again. Scott blinked in the darkness, maybe that was all he expected but something gave him hope that John understood, if only a little.


End file.
